Dollface
by snippetcentric
Summary: Templar-recruit Meredith's features are both a bane and a blessing. Her temperament? Only one of the above. Elthina x Meredith.
1. Merry: A Living Oxymoron

A/N: So I was drawing a young Meredith the other day and said to myself "Why not write about a young, non-crazy Meredith?" So...Elthina x Meredith! You can blame Heath for that. Hard sell, you think? I made some visual aids to prove otherwise so check my tumblr. It's still snippetcentric but at tumblr. *coughcoughshamelessplugcough.*

Disclaimer: Not mine, Bioware and EA's. Derivative work is mine.

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><p>Templar-recruit Meredith. She had joined Kirkwall's Templar order quite young- too young for proper templar training in fact. Today marked her fourteenth year of life and her first day of formal combat instruction; quite obvious with such a wispy girl who could not even decently lift a training sword. The earlier excitement of finally donning armor drained as she realized it made the slightest bit of movement a chore. Still, it was the first real step of the life she had chosen; to serve as a soldier for the Maker. A little weight-lifting wasn't going to stop her. Wispy she might be, but she had decided that a bit of determination, perseverance and duty to the Maker were her best tools to become the proper templar she wanted to be.<p>

The best tools that were known to her, anyway.

Sword exercises over, Meredith wiggled the full-helmet off her head, loosing golden locks to tumble down. Her smooth alabaster skin glimmered with a light sheen of sweat beneath the early morning sun, further accenting the elegant lines of her face. Her pale blue eyes betrayed none of the exhaustion she felt.

The entire courtyard fell hushed.

Unaware of the multitude of eyes upon her, Meredith quietly returned her practice sword to the communal rack. Her mind was already upon the afternoon's chantry lessons with the loopy Sister when a familiar voice boomed behind her.

"You, there," Knight-Captain Guylian called to her. "Blondie."

Meredith fought a frown. She hated that appellation. Still, even though her arms were numb from the weight of the sword and practice, raw stubbornness kept Meredith upright as she addressed Guylian properly. "Knight-Captain," she said as she faced Guylian and bowed deeply with arms crossed over her chest. She could feel the templar's prying eyes upon her even as she finished the small gesture. Hiding her discomfort, she leveled her gaze with Guylian's. He may be her superior, but she'd rather not be kept from her studies. "Is something the matter?" she queried, managing to keep her tone level.

"Meredith Stannard, correct?"

She nodded. "Yes, Ser."

The templar gave her a long look from head to toe, smiling. "From now on, refrain from wearing a helmet."

Meredith narrowed her eyes. "Why? It's part of templar armor, isn't it?"

"You're not a templar yet, girl," Guylian replied and turned on his heel. "No helmet from now on," he repeated as he walked away.

Meredith gritted her teeth as her fists curled. True as the statement was, she couldn't help but be annoyed. So she wasn't a full-pledged templar yet, but should that merit not wearing proper recruit regalia? She looked at her fellow recruits, some still wearing their helmets. Nevertheless she could feel their eyes upon her. Her temper flared further.

"Alright, file in, recruits!" a Knight-Lieutenant ordered with a clap of his gauntlets. "Time for the Chant!"

She couldn't help but stomp her way back into the templar hall.

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><p>Meredith sat alone, reading at a small desk in the Gallow's library and unmindful of the looks the mages directed at her. She had better things to worry about, like catching up with her readings. She was excused from the day's Chantry lessons; birthday leave and such. As if she was inclined to gallivant around Kirkwall. She was in no condition to do so anyway; without the weight of armor to distract her, the soreness brought by novel training made its way to the forefront. The mere lifting of a finger made her wince.<p>

"Still a loner, I see," a sweet voice interrupted the young recruit's reading.

Meredith lifted her gaze and sure enough, Sister Elthina, her class' chantry tutor, was right before her desk, all smiles as usual. A small nod was Meredith's only acknowledgment before returning to her text, wishing to herself that the busybody of a sister would bother someone else. Elthina, strikingly pretty with her long dark hair and contrasting pale eyes and an amiable personality to match, was a hit among the other recruits.

But not with Meredith. She had known Elthina since her childhood and entertained the Sister's doting when she was younger. However, she had become pesky as of late; Elthina bothered her during lessons and whenever they ran into each other in the chantry. Meredith would have forgiven Elthina if she spoke of important matters, like mage affairs or chantry curriculum. But no, Elthina would waste her time with "_Who would've thought you'd look like that?_" or "_You grow __more__ ravishing each day!_"

"Why so glum, chum?" Elthina cut her thoughts.

Or dated rhymes. Meredith rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't you be in class, Sister?" she muttered.

"Mother_,_" Elthina corrected.

Meredith lifted a brow at the news, finally looking up at Elthina. "Since when?" she asked.

"Just yesterday," Elthina sighed as she sat on Meredith's desk, her bum obstructing her view of the book. Meredith frowned but the priest merely smirked. "Aren't you going to congratulate me?" Elthina chirped, blowing a strand of hair away from her face.

"Congratulations. Now leave me alone," Meredith groused as she pried her book free from Elthina's bum.

Unable to take a hint, Elthina mussed Meredith's wavy blond hair, earning herself a swat from the young girl. Despite the reproach, Elthina chuckled and said, "And to you as well. You've started swordwork today, have you not?"

"Yes and thank you," Meredith obliged and turned a page, again burying her nose in the text. She said it as a dismissal and hoped the priest would get off her desk.

...

She didn't. Meredith groaned. The buzzing whispers from the mages in the large hall made her head ache. She moved her eyes from the book and leveled her gaze at the priest.

"Don't you have other recruits to bother?" she asked as calmly as possible.

"Yes," Elthina chirped, still keeping that sickeningly sweet smile on her face. "But you're my favorite."

The buzzing heightened, along with the thrumming ache by Meredith's temples. She forced a smile. "I'm flattered. Anything else?"

"So how was it?" Elthina asked, cocking her head to the side.

"How was what?"

"Swordwork, what else?" the priest said and turned a page of her book.

A page Meredith wasn't done with. "What's to say?" the templar-recruit said coolly and flipped the page back, managing not to wince as she feigned reading. "It involved swords and work."

"And the lack of headgear," Elthina said as she got off the desk, moving to the seat beside the young girl. Meredith's eyes narrowed but stayed on the book.

"Her Reverence isn't above gossip then."

"And a young girl like you isn't?" Elthina chuckled and pulled on the girl's smooth cheek. Meredith swatted the priest's hand yet again, harder this time. Elthina, however, merely rubbed the offending hand and said, "Though I have to say, Guylian's still sly as ever."

Meredith flicked the woman a tired glance and resumed reading. "That's a word for it."

Elthina smirked as she reached to Meredith, tucking a loose tress of hair behind her ear. "I suppose with a face like that, I'd do the same thing."

"What does my face have to do with anything?" Meredith asked as she turned a page, irritated. Her face again. If she had to count, Elthina had commented on her face or looks more times than she had on the Maker, Andraste, and the Chant combined.

"Everything. Well, if Guylian goes beyond looking don't hesitate to tell me; you're my favorite, after all," Elthina offered, smiling that sweet smile of hers as she pushed off the desk. Meredith was about to sigh in relief when the priest stood up, but then the woman mussed her hair again and pulled away before she could punish her with another swat. As Meredith abandoned her book to fix her hair, Elthina whispered so closely that her lips brushed against the girl's ear. "Oh, and happy birthday, _Merry_."

Meredith sat frozen, staring at the priest's swaying hips as she walked away from her. For a moment that dour soreness was forgotten and was replaced with something..._odd_. With a trembling hand Meredith reached to her ear, the one which Elthina brushed against. An unbidden recollection made her shudder.

"Recruits and priests fraternizing? Typical."

Meredith turned to her side and scowled. Orsino. Of all people it had to be him. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Orsino."

The elf smirked as he joined her at her desk, setting a tome before him. One nuisance replaced by another. Her birthday was turning for the worst. "Fraternizing could also mean 'getting friendly', but that's just beyond you, isn't it?" he sneered in that annoying pitch Meredith had grown accustomed to with other recruits her age. He nodded towards her book. "You shouldn't study so much, _Merry," _he said, obviously taking pleasure from Meredith's annoyance with her nickname. _"_The other recruits might think you're a mage."

Meredith slammed her book shut and stood up, glaring at Orsino. "Perhaps if you spent more time studying than eavesdropping, you might _actually pass_ your Harrowing." She returned a smirk at the elf's displeasure; a good rebound from her earlier aggravation. She tucked her book under one arm and bowed to the apprentice. "Good day, Orsino," she bade and walked away.

As Meredith pulled out of the library and into the Gallows' large halls, she caught sight of the imposing Templar armors out on display. Her eyes narrowed.

It was newly cleaned; dust-free, shiny, and worst of all, _reflective._ A girl with a finely sculpted face, silken gold tresses and the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen looked back at her.

Meredith scowled and jerked her head away, walking briskly, careful to keep her eyes on the floor to avoid any of the other shiny armors adorning the hallway. As she hurried away, Alrik, a fellow recruit, hailed her.

"Hey doll-face how's 'bout-"

Meredith punched him before he could get the words out of his mouth.

She was placed on kitchen duty for a month.


	2. Gold & Silver

A/N: If you want to see the bit from the previous chappie of Alrik getting pummeled, check (snippetcentric dot tumblr dot com slash post slash 11933972287) So sorry for the shameless plug! XDD Also, thanks to The Allusive Man for proofing and editing!

Disclaimer: Not mine but Bioware and EA's. Derivative is, however, mine.

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><p>Meredith dumped the scrubbing brush into the bucket and rose gracefully to her feet. In her usual manner, the girl stretched for a moment before carrying the bucket to a nearby basin and dumping the dirty water for gardening use. Walking back into the kitchen, Meredith wiped her hands on her apron and sought the eyes of the head cook, who simply nodded. She nodded back and began undoing her apron. It was the last day of Meredith's kitchen duty. The cooks and maids had grown fond of the girl; never had they seen anyone so young move so efficiently in a kitchen. Meredith always listened intently to orders, needing only to be told once; quite unlike the other recruits that have been punished with scullery duty. True, she may be aversive to small-talk and prone to monosyllabic responses but the floors and pots had never been cleaner.<p>

Also, just the sight of girl's face eased the usual drudgery in the kitchen.

The maids and scullions whispered among themselves as Meredith walked past them and towards a blond maid. The maid was pretty enough by most standards, but plain compared to the templar-recruit. They seethed with jealousy as Meredith regarded the young woman.

"Thank you for your instruction," Meredith said as she surrendered her soiled apron to the maid.

"I-it's nothing, messere. It was a pleasure," the maid stammered as she took the article in her hands, visibly shaking as she did. Meredith loosed the tie of her hair and nodded, blond tresses framing her exquisite face as she gave the maid the slight bow. The girl curtsied in reply, awkward but polite. The templar-recruit had already spun on her heel and paced several steps when the maid called out. Meredith paused and looked over her shoulder, blue eyes narrowing as the maid scurried to her. Still, the maid braved the scrutiny. Flushed and bashful, she asked, "M-may I and the other maids watch you during sword practice, messere?"

They looked at each other for a long moment; Meredith seemingly irritated, and the maid ridiculously hopeful. The other servants in the background watched with bated breath.

Then Meredith sighed. "As you please, Lusine," she said sharply. The maid nodded vigorously with hands clasped together before her chest. Thus, Meredith was once again on her way. The other maids rushed Lusine as soon as the templar-recruit was gone.

"What did she say, what did she say?" a tall, crooked-nosed maid asked.

"Did she say 'yes'?" another followed.

Lusine managed to nod once, before fainting.

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><p>"Well, well, look who just finished floor-scrubbing!" Alrik howled from across the courtyard as Meredith appeared, showing off his missing tooth. His idiot-posse followed suit. Meredith paid them no heed, instead shuffling through the large weapons rack for her favored broadsword. With one glance Meredith saw that it was missing. She frowned; she may not have carved her name on it but recruits generally stuck to a particular weapon once they started training. Perhaps there was a new recruit? Her sharp eyes scanned the courtyard and found none. She sighed and returned to the rack, looking for another broadsword instead.<p>

Daggers...

Crossbows...

Greatsword.

Nothing.

"Alrik took it."

Her frown deepened but a mere moment before she regarded the helpful soul. "Thank you, Thrask."

Thrask nodded and sat on a bench beside her, holding out his own broadsword with a small smile. Meredith shook her head; she didn't want to inconvenience a fellow recruit for her sake. Her eyes inadvertently lingered on the greatsword, making her think what kind of fool would wield such an encumbrance. In her opinion, such a lumbering weapon was unnecessary in fighting foes whose protection was, most frequently, mere robes and barrriers. Speed mattered most. Even her superiors who preferred greatswords seemed to struggle with its weight.

As if able to read her mind, Thrask commented, "You should go with daggers instead, Stannard."

If the statement had come from anyone else, Meredith would have scowled, but Thrask was by far the most sensible colleague she had met. Instead, she lifted a brow. "Why?"

"Speed is your strong point, a greatsword will just slow you down," the young man offered as he stood, smiling lightly. "And it suits you."

Meredith sneered. "Says you."

"Says a lot of us," Thrask countered as he grinned and rubbed his nose. "Just give it a thought."

"Recruits, file in!" barked Guylian.

"Let's go," Thrask beckoned, wearing his helmet as he joined the broadsword group. Meredith nodded and waved him off, returning to her perusal of the weapons rack. She stared at the daggers.

_It suits you._

Meredith looked at the recruits receiving instruction in daggerwork. The wispy and attractive members of the bunch had gathered there.

_Says a lot of us._

A scowl filled her features. She looked at the greatsword group, where the burliest and the homeliest of the recruits had gathered.

"Perfect," Meredith whispered to herself as she grabbed the greatsword from the rack with one hand. She almost tipped over with the sword's enormous weight as its end lodged into the ground.

"Stannard!" bellowed Guylian. "Get your pretty arse here and _move it!"_

Hissing, Meredith placed a foot forward to secure her footing, then held the sword's handle with her other hand, this time successfully lifting the monster. At least the extra work of scrubbing and cleaning had given her arms an added bit of strength on top of weight training. She jogged to her new group, every step a laborious task considering the greatsword in her hands. Eyes hidden by helmets regarded her curiously as she joined the squad. As usual, she ignored them, setting the sword before her and resting her hands on the top of its pommel as she stood ready for instruction. What she could not ignore, however, was Guylian's leering.

"Moving to greatswords, eh, Stannard?" the Knight-Captain asked.

Meredith bit her bottom lip, recalling that the sly bastard was in charge of greatsword instruction. The coveting eyes boring through her armor almost made her balk, but Alrik's sniggering from other end of the courtyard gave her resolve. The shaking of Thrask's head stoked it further.

_I'll show you._

She steeled herself and looked squarely at Guylian. Despite the expressionless mask, Meredith's gaze uttered an unspoken threat. Beads of sweat formed on Guylian's forehead as he stepped back with a gulp.

_I'll show you all._

"Yes, Ser," Meredith finally said and bowed deeply to her superior. "I look forward to your instruction."

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><p>Shrill cries and whistles pervaded through the Gallow's training courtyard; its perimeter was packed with a motley of people. Maids, Sisters, and templar-recruits yet to receive training were most prominent. In the courtyard itself were full-pledged templars and recruits, cheering so wildly they had placed their helmets on the ends of their swords and were twirling them about, their ringing adding to the ruckus. In the center of it all were two individuals, their blurred outlines barely visible amidst the clash of metal, blue, red, and gold.<p>

"To the right, Carver, right!" cried a templar.

"You're not letting a recruit best you, are you?" asked another.

"Shu'p!" snarled Carver as he leaned to his left, wincing at the hum of the air being sliced right beside his head. The templar had yet to regain his footing when another flicker of metal came from below his side, giving him only enough time to parry with his greatsword. The clap of metal against metal reverberated through Carver; both its impact and sound stunned him momentarily.

The other fighter, seemingly a constant blur of silver and gold, slammed against the stunned templar. The impact sent Carver flying to the ground. As he fell another blow sent his greatsword spinning through the air and towards the crowd. Thankfully, the spectators had enough sense to give way, letting the greatsword lodge into the stone cobbles with loud 'thunk'. Hushed silence followed as the blur of silver and gold stilled and became Meredith, now a young woman, standing tall and victorious with her greatsword brandished over the disarmed Maurevar Carver.

"Yield," the victor said simply.

The crowd went wild.

"Oh, Meredith! Marry me!" a Sister wailed.

"Meredith, have my babies!" a templar-recruit followed.

Carver tore his helmet off and revealed a sheepish grin."You win, Stannard," he said as he bowed his head to Meredith. The templar-recruit nodded and offered a hand, which Carver gladly took and pulled himself back to his feet. He regarded the young woman kindly. "So the rumors are true. You _do_ move like a demon," the man ribbed as he shook Meredith's hand.

Meredith pursed her lips. "There are better analogies, Ser Carver," she groused as she pulled her hand back.

"Oh, right..." Carver sighed and bowed his head. "My sincerest apologies, Ser Stannard, and thank you for the spar." A recruit ran to the templar and offered him his greatsword. He nodded and took the sword. As he sheathed the weapon to his back he turned to his junior and saw embarrassment flit across the girl's face. He chuckled.

"I am not a templar yet," Meredith mumbled as she fumbled with the sword in her hand.

"Only a matter of time, lassie," the templar said with a laugh then thumbed over to the rowdy crowd. "Now go, before your admirers tear me apart."

Meredith frowned but nonetheless bowed to her senior. She made her way back into the Gallows' inner halls and pushed through the dozens of admirers fawning over her.

"Well?" Guylian beamed proudly as he joined Carver's side.

Carver shrugged. "It's just as you say, Knight-Captain. What's left is gauging her other skills." He then pointed to the greatsword on his back and remarked, "and she wields these things as if they are mere daggers." He sighed as if mourning a loss. "Must have crazy muscles to manage that."

Guylian grinned maniacally. "I beg to differ, Ser."

Carver lifted an eyebrow before realization dawned on his face. He punched his superior by the arm. "Guylian, you dirty toad! Don't tell me you've gotten her naked!"

"Sadly, no," Guylian said, laughing heartily as he gestured to himself. "She could gut this old man in a heartbeat."

"So you're just peeping Tom?" Carver drawled as he folded his arms over his chest.

Guylian laughed again and slapped the other templar's back. "Can't fault me for having eyes, can you?" Ignoring his junior's disapproval, he gestured towards the inner halls. "Now come, we have things to discuss..."


	3. Cheeky Maker

A/N: I really wish I could write faster but yeah...my attention span has been suffering lately. You can blame ME and Skyrim for that =D! Anyway, thanks to TAM for editing!

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><p>Heavenly voices singing divine notes of praise to the Maker filled Kirkwall's chantry, as was customary for daily service. Not many were in attendance as it was early morning and midweek; the devout were either asleep or out working. Revered Mother Elthina stood amidst the small choir composed of both initiates and sisters. She supposed she should be leading, being the highest ranked in the group, but truth be told she was still sleepy. That and she disliked singing. The woes of having been given to the chantry against her will. Still, duties are duties especially for the clergy of the largest chantry south of the Free Marches. Apparently keeping appearances mattered to the religious, as well.<p>

Elthina had already resorted to pretend-singing when a familiar crown of gold caught her eye. An amused smile formed on her lips. There was only one person in Kirkwall with such a dazzling blond top that she could spot it from the other side of the chantry.

Meredith.

That got Elthina's blood going. She stepped to the front of the choir and turned to face them, smiling brightly as she usually did. The other clerics exchanged puzzled glances even as they sang, no doubt surprised by the Revered Mother's sudden interest. In response, Elthina raised her arms and gestured for them to increase the tempo, almost twice the rate they were going. Realization was all too plain on the choir members' faces with a Sister in the back sighing loudly. Elthina merely gave an encouraging nod and tut-tutted, tripling the tempo. The choir chased their words and breath as they begrudgingly obeyed. Elthina was the ranking cleric after all, and the others had no choice but to comply.

Through the rushed but nonetheless divine song, Elthina's mind was already upon Meredith. She had not seen the girl since she was assigned to the Grand Cathedral. Between trips to Val Royeaux and her duties, she did not have time to visit her favorite former student. Had it really been four years? Elthina smiled despite the sigh that escaped her lips. Meredith would surely still be the same surly child whom she obscenely enjoyed teasing. It had always been a pleasure to draw a flush out of that pretty face; Meredith's ambivalence towards her Maker-given features made it even more of a delight. Elthina sneaked a glance over her shoulder to where Meredith was and sure enough, the devout Andrastian was still there.

She would make sure to give the girl four year's worth of teasing.

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><p>Whatever witty thing Elthina had to say flew from her mind as she stared at the young woman before her. This certainly wasn't the pretty young thing she remembered mentoring. The templar-recruit had grown quite nicely, nearly a head taller than Elthina as she stood proudly in her armor. On anyone else the messy tousle of hair should have been taboo but not on Meredith, the wavy gold curtains simply accented the fine lines of her face. The same sharpness of those cold blue eyes was still there, if not sharper. Elthina supposed Meredith meant it to be scary but coupled with that beautiful face all it did was stir her loins.<p>

Yes, her loins. Maker preserve her and her vows.

"Mother Elthina," Meredith finally voiced, interrupting the priest's thoughts. "I should have known you were leading today's chant," she said disdainfully.

Elthina noticed the crease between the templar-recruit's brows and smiled. At least she was right with Meredith still being surly. That was something to work with. "Aww, Merry. Is that how you should greet me after all these years?" Elthina chirped as she stepped closer and mussed Meredith's hair, just as she used to. Except that she had to reach higher now.

And just as she used to, Meredith slapped Elthina's hand away. Elthina winced; even the girl's swats had grown stronger. Something in her was delighted at the fact, along with the familiar annoyance on the templar-recruit's face. Elthina could not help but smile wider, even as Meredith said, "Stop calling me Merry, your Reverence. I am no longer a child."

"And what a fine woman you've become," Elthina commented as she circled Meredith, seeking the angles of her body despite the heavy armor. "Pity you're still the ill-tempered Merry I knew," she harped, eyes lightening as she spotted the impressive outline of Meredith's rump against the heavy red and blue skirt. She almost whimpered when Meredith spun and hid the view. Thank the Maker the girl's face was just as nice, if not nicer. Keeping her bright grin, she queried, "What brings you to the Grand Cathedral, pray tell?"

Meredith retrieved a small envelope bearing the Knight-Commander's seal from the groove of her arm guard and held it before Elthina. "For the Grand Cleric," she said simply.

Elthina pursed her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You mean to say you stuck around for entire service instead of heading straight to her office?"

Meredith was speechless as a frown spread over her face. She seemed thoughtful for a moment before the frown became a smirk. "So you call that garbled rush of words a 'service'?" Meredith retorted.

"Can't fault us for being lively, can you?" the Revered Mother replied, dismissing the thinly-disguised rebuke. She then held out a hand to Meredith. "Would you like me to deliver that for you?"

"No."

"I suspected as much," Elthina said as she clasped her hands together before her; it was a simple gesture that she found effective in reminding people of her rank. Not that she liked flaunting, but she did like throwing people off their stance. Its effect was immediate; Meredith was suddenly shifting on her heels and seemed highly uncomfortable. The Revered Mother couldn't hide the amusement in her voice as she asked, " Do you know where her office is?"

"No, Revered Mother," was Meredith's snappy answer, standing ramrod straight as she would address a senior.

Elthina bit her bottom lip to stifle a laugh; leave it to Meredith to be proper no matter her personal dislike. Deciding it was no use to tease Meredith too much, Elthina turned on her heel. "I'm heading there as well, follow me if you like," she said and started for the stairs, not waiting for the younger woman's response. It was only after several paces that Meredith followed, keeping a reverent distance from the priest.

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><p>The Grand Cleric gave the young pair a cursory glance through the stack of parchment and books on her table. Elthina's bright grin had devolved into a forced smile under the scrutiny; she was, to put it mildly, in strained terms with the senior priest. Her convivial attitude towards the clergy and layfolk had always been a point of tension between them. That and her favored status with the Chantry's Divine, so much that some official communiques were addressed to her rather than the Grand Cleric. Not that she actively sought favor; how could she have known that the she was sweet-talking the Divine herself? Oh, Orlesians and their accent.<p>

A loud cough tore Elthina from her imaginings. The Revered Mother straightened up and met her senior's glare with a customary smile. The glare went from Elthina to Meredith, who did not even flinch. She decided then that she liked the younger woman more. The Revered Mother cleared her throat then gestured to Meredith. "Templar-recruit Meredith Stannard, Your Grace," Elthina offered and the youngest woman bowed deeply with the introduction.

"Rise, Ser," was the Grand Cleric's only acknowledgment. Meredith did as asked and was about to say something, but was halted with a wave of the priest's hand. "Your business?" she asked curtly.

Meredith frowned for such a brief moment that Elthina was convinced she merely imagined it. Wasting no time or movement the templar-recruit pulled the missive from her arm guard and walked before the Grand Cleric, offering the letter within arm's reach. "A letter from the Knight-Commander, Your Grace."

"So I see," the Grand Cleric said simply as she flicked a glance at the girl and took the letter.

The younger ladies stood in silence and watched their senior prying open the letter, until the latter resumed glaring at them.

"Well, what are you two waiting for?" the Grand Cleric asked irritably. With a wave of her hand, the senior priest ordered, "Dismissed."

From the corner of her eye Elthina saw Meredith frown, this time long enough for her to see it wasn't imagined. Ill-advised, Elthina thought; the Grand Cleric, unlike her, did not take kindly to contemptuous conduct. Stepping between Meredith and the ranking cleric, Elthina curtsied gracefully and said, "Of course, Your Grace." Both seemed none the wiser and Meredith followed the courtesy but bowed instead. The younger women did not wait for another dismissal and headed out of the office.

As soon as the door closed behind them, a loud sigh escaped Elthina. Meredith, still, seemed oblivious; the same steely and unconcerned look was dominant over her features. _Chantry politics will eat her alive, _Elthina thought as she gestured to a nearby railing. She was mildly surprised when Meredith obliged, even proceeding ahead of the Revered Mother. Elthina joined Meredith as soon as the latter propped her elbows upon the railing. She was just thinking of how to phrase her caution when Meredith snarled, "Humility runs scarce in here, I see."

Elthina stifled another laugh and adopted the same pose which commanded reverence. "We're not without faults, girl," she said lightly, expecting Meredith to retaliate with a snide remark. The knight-recruit, however, seemed unfazed as she remained resting on the railing and directed her gaze to the distance. The mid-morning light through the stained-glass windows flattered the younger woman's features. Elthina had to keep herself from reaching to the girl's face; contrary to popular belief she still had a certain degree of reverence for her vows. She was just in the middle of burning Meredith's profile into her memory when the girl turned to her and said,

"She seems to have more than you do."

And there it was, the snide remark. "Merry, having a kind word for me? The Maker smiles upon me today," Elthina said as she allowed herself to reach to Meredith and tucked in a stray blond lock behind the recruit's ear.

Predictably, Meredith slapped away her hand. "Truth is sometimes kind," she replied coolly. Before Elthina could say anything else the younger woman already crossed her plated arms before her chest and said, "I must take my leave, Revered Mother," then closed the gesture with a bow. Gray and blue eyes met briefly and Elthina's heart seized, almost not catching her junior's farewell. The next thing she knew was that Meredith had already spun on her heel and was halfway down the stairs. Elthina watched the templar-recruit stride out of the cathedral; the quiet cadence and confidence of Meredith's steps seized her full attention.

In a mix of subdued horror and awe Elthina realized that the girl she had partly raised and taught had become such a dashing woman. Her mind was just beginning to wrap around the grisly prospect when the Grand Cleric's grating voice summoned her from within the office. Grateful for the distraction, Elthina gripped the sides of her robes and hurried to heed the wretched woman's call; at least the displeasure of the Grand Cleric's company would take her mind off the steel-covered temptation called Meredith.

The foreboding grin on her senior's face, however, offered little comfort. Time dribbled slowly as the following words escaped from the Grand Cleric's mouth:

"Pack your things. You're switching with Mother Pieta in the Gallows."

It was then Elthina knew that the Maker had a sense of humor. At her expense, of course. What a cheeky bastard.


	4. Loopholes

A/N: Slow as a glacier! But longest chapter I've ever written, so it's something, right? I promise 'Not Diddling Sisters' is next.

* * *

><p>Summers in Kirkwall were foul. There was hardly any greenery about and being built on top of a glorified piece of rock meant less shade and more rocks and stones that absorbed heat. The Gallows' inhabitants had it better; being isolated from the main city and lying at the tip of the peninsula allowed more cooling sea breeze to come their way. The mages were likewise helpful, producing ice and frost enchantments which proved to be among the Circle's more effective coin-producing schemes.<p>

This slightly better plight was lost on Meredith, though 'ignored' might be the better word. It was the templar-recruits' lone rest day for the week, but Meredith always chose to spend the morning on weight training. She sat upon one of the training courtyard's benches, wrapping clean bindings around her fingers and hands. Meredith knew she was lithe by nature and if she were to keep using a greatsword, her entire body would need constant training. If only she had bigger bones, she'd have lesser problems. Smirking at the thought, Meredith directed her gaze at the courtyard. It was early enough that the warmth was still tolerable as long as she worked in the shade. The Gallows' tall walls cast enough shadows to ensure that. Meredith secured the last knot on her hands and tied her hair then proceeded to the parallel bars. She was just about to do some pull-ups when familiar chatter echoed from the farthest corners of the courtyard.

"There she is! I told you she doesn't skip morning training."

"Oh Maker, no armor. How narrow is that waist?"

"Forget that waist, look at her arse."

Meredith merely narrowed her eyes and proceeded to grip the parallel bars, hoisting herself up to the chin, pausing, dipping low, repeating.

One, two.

Gawkers were nothing new and if she allowed herself their distraction her body would have atrophied long ago.

Five, six.

At first it was disconcerting that she seemed to attract more women than men...not that it bothered her or anything. Men gave her enough trouble whenever she was out of the Gallows on leave and without armor. A brutish lot, acting as if they've never seen a woman.

Nineteen, twenty. She took a heaving breath as her arms started to burn.

"Sweet Maker, she's all sweaty now."

"I wonder if she makes those noises while-"

"While what, child?"

"Mother Elthina!"

Meredith suspended herself upon the bar as she peered over to the gawkers' direction and saw the Revered Mother with that confounded smile as she hovered around the four younger recruits. Three girls and an effeminate boy. Typical. Starting to tremble as she held herself, Meredith relaxed and resumed usual repetition, deciding to tune out the inevitable dithering and explaining between the Revered Mother and the recruits.

Thirty-four, thirty-five. Beads of sweat began to dribble down her brows.

"Is it just me or is it suddenly warmer here?" Elthina chirped somewhere near her side.

As it was years ago, Elthina replaced one nuisance with herself each time. Meredith spared the woman a brief glance as she continued with her training then closed her eyes. If she didn't allow her gawking juniors to bother her, she surely could do the same with the busybody priest.

Forty, forty-one...

"Oh dear, what an inviting expression...that's it...mhmm, keep at it..."

Meredith felt the muscles of her face tighten as a scowl formed. The sudden annoyance suddenly made the activity more difficult, making the templar-recruit groan with the next tug.

"Maker, _yes! _Such a sweet moan!_"_

Meredith snarled as she released her grip on the bar, landing squarely on her feet. The unconcerned smile on Elthina's lips annoyed Meredith to no end. She slowed her breathing as she tried to keep her temper level; Meredith knew the priest well enough that she knew the latter reveled in testing her patience. "Your Reverence," Meredith said as she stepped closer, hoping to put off the priest with her sweaty self. "What brings me the displeasure of your company?"

"And a 'good morning' to you too, Merry," Elthina answered and met Meredith in her step, seemingly uncaring for her junior's unkempt state.

Meredith crossed her arms as she waited for the priest to continue, but Elthina simply kept smiling that stupid smile, all the while staring at her. After a few moments under those pale eyes Meredith felt self-conscious, making her drop the defiant glare. Elthina chuckled, adding to the templar-recruit's ire. "Not much, really, just taking in the old rock," the priest said as she stalked around the younger woman.

Meredith rolled her eyes. She had an inkling that the woman was taking in more than just the courtyard if the passing glances on her form were any indication. "Then please do so without bothering me. I have enough resident gawkers to contend with."

"So you do pay attention," said Elthina, her smile growing wider.

Meredith snorted before gripping the bars above her. "I try not to. Is there anything else?"

"Well, if you must know," Elthina said as she clasped her hands before her hips, the smile on her face becoming outright mischievous. "I'm relieving Mother Pieta of her duties here in the Gallows."

"What?" Meredith asked as her arms dropped limp from the bars, her blood running cold at the revelation.

"Me," the priest said as she gestured to herself then to the ground. "Here. In the Gallows. With the Order, Circle, and most importantly," open palms gestured to Meredith as the most conniving grin graced Elthina's features. "You."

"You're joking," Meredith said flatly, fighting hard to keep her face blank.

Elthina shook her head then pulled a kerchief from her sash. "Afraid not. The Grand Cleric wants me out of her sight and Mother Pieta is due a tour in Val Royeaux." The priest made an almost convincing look of hurt. "Hence this old rock gets me."

The younger woman brought a palm to her face and groaned. Elthina took the opportunity and placed the kerchief in Meredith's other hand, walking away before the latter could voice a protest. Meredith could only stare at the folded cloth in her hands as small whispers of self-encouragement swam inside her thoughts. It shouldn't be so bad, it would just be the same as it was years ago; impertinent Elthina may be but she had always handled the annoying priest with little trouble. Damnable smile notwithstanding.

Meredith was shaking her head at the thought when Elthina called from the shade of the courtyard's many pillars.

"I'll bring cold towels tomorrow!" the priest cried as she waved farewell.

_Tomorrow. Again._

The templar-recruit threw the kerchief to the side and resumed training.

* * *

><p>Elthina found herself distracted as she walked back from her trip to the courtyard, unaware of the greetings and bows of respect from templars and mages alike. She knew it was the templars' day of rest and the space would be mostly empty; a perfect spot for contemplating her situation. She may have been previously assigned to the Gallows but she was merely a Sister then and mostly in charge of chantry lessons, unlike her present lot; now she was responsible for the spiritual well-being of Kirkwall's mages and templars. 'A lot to take in' was quite an understatement. The Grand Cleric truly hated her. So to the courtyard she went, hoping for the company of a fresh breeze and naught else, muttering "Why Maker why?"<p>

She certainly had not expected to find Meredith there, dressed in nothing but a sleeveless shift and light pants with that chiseled body in use and in plain-view. The glistening sweat only added to the templar-recruit's charm. Not that she was complaining. Of course, she had to ward off fellow gawkers (for Meredith's sake, really!) and she would bloody well do it again. She couldn't have Meredith's wonderful and delectably athletic body atrophy due to irreverent distractions, could she?

Elthina paused in her stride and slapped her forehead. She couldn't be thinking like this, her resolve shouldn't be so fickle. As soon as she stepped foot in the Gallows that morning she had already sworn to the Maker and her vows that she wouldn't touch Meredith. It was one thing to accept advances, and quite another to make them. Yes, those are different things. And if she knew Meredith she'd never make those advances. Such a comforting thought.

Gaining some solace, Elthina lifted her head and looked through the window to the courtyard. Her favorite recruit had resumed training, this time lifting deadweights. Though it was quite a distance Elthina could still make out the lines of taut muscle on the girl's feminine form, the intensity of physical activity evident on the sculptured face. In her mind Meredith's expression was replicated in a less innocent activity, but just as vigorous. The priest unconsciously licked her lips as heat spread throughout her body. She urged herself to turn back, walk away and take a cold bath. A very cold-

And then Meredith lifted the hem of her shirt, using it to wipe the moisture from her face. Defined lines of the young woman's abdomen and a delicate waist shimmered with toil beneath the warm light.

"Oh Maker."

Elthina decided then to make an exception to her vows.

* * *

><p>True to her word, Elthina showed up the following morning with cool towels and a chilled bottle of water. Meredith had first winced at taking comfort in anything touched by magic but the increasingly warm weather chipped away at that reservation rather quickly. Magic did have its uses, after all. Perhaps more surprising, however, was that the Revered Mother was behaving herself. Not one coy remark or innuendo had passed the priest's lips since she appeared in the courtyard. Sure, Elthina still gawked at her but was discreet about it, ducking her head into a book now and then. Also, the Revered Mother's presence was enough to deter other templars and servants from their customary disturbance.<p>

Meredith paused from her lifting and stretched, discreetly throwing a glance at her silent companion. Elthina was scribbling _on_ the book on her lap. Blue eyes narrowed reflexively; Meredith was fairly sure the book was a borrowed Chantry text and a rare one at that. The templar would have huffed with indignation if the priest's clear eyes did not meet her gaze; Elthina's full lips soon curved to a smile. Meredith was caught breathless for a moment until she realized the inevitable teasing that would come after.

Keeping with the trend of surprising things that morning, however, the priest merely nodded and resumed defacing the book. Meredith stood dumbfounded for a while, staring at the well-behaved Elthina.

_Well-behaved._

_Elthina._

Meredith never thought those words could be used together. She blinked several times and shook her head, hair bouncing with the action. Defacing a sacred text certainly couldn't be considered 'well-behaved'. Thus, the templar-recruit stomped over to Elthina, ready to snatch the book and say how deplorable vandalism was—

Until she saw the slip of parchment within the book that Elthina was writing on.

_Oh._

Mortified with her own presumptuousness, Meredith spun on her heel and was ready to proceed with training. Despite Elthina's rambunctiousness, she still was a priest; Meredith could not keep assuming the woman's world revolved around lollygagging and innuendos. Perhaps Elthina had decided to turn a new leaf? The templar-recruit straightened up as her fellows started to file into the yard, already garbed in armor. She would need to ready herself soon.

A damp coolness pressed to Meredith's cheek, making her jump. Sure enough, Elthina was by her side, holding the cold towel to her face. "You should get into your armor," the priest suggested, smiling that sweet smile of hers. Her face warmed despite the towel, then blanched.

_'Sweet' smile? _Since when did she start thinking _that?_

Meredith nodded stiffly and stepped away from the older woman. "I suppose so. Thank you, Revered Mother," the recruit mumbled and took the towel from Elthina, trying to keep her gaze anywhere but on the woman before her. She saw other recruits ogling her and her company while whispering amongst themselves. Meredith scowled; could no one in the Gallows mind their own business? She turned to Elthina, staring at the priest's feet instead of her face. "Excuse me then," she said crisply and without further ado, proceeded to the inner halls. She had not gone three paces, however, before Elthina called.

"You forgot this, Merry!" the priest said, throwing the chilled bottle the younger woman's way.

Meredith spun around and caught the bottle, her eyes narrowed irately. Quiet sniggering followed all around the courtyard. "Stop calling me that!" the templar-recruit demanded and stomped away from the scene.

'Sweet' smile indeed. Andraste's flames take her should she ever think so again.

* * *

><p>Marinated pig foot, a cup of apple chutney, and a half-loaf of bread. Meredith stared at the bland plate given to the recruit before her, who gave up a sigh. The pig foot looked particularly unappetizing; she could swear bits of dirt still clung to it. Meredith sidled forward and thrust her tray toward one of the servers. The server's jaw dropped as their eyes met and the templar-recruit frowned for a moment as she tried to put a name to the face. Mentally subtracting the painted face and several years, Meredith recognized the server. She hadn't seen the woman since her last spar with Carver. Meredith gave a slight bow of acknowledgment and said, "Lusine." The server's already colored cheeks darkened further. Lusine hurriedly gave Meredith a larger plate and dumped a generous portion of ham, salad greens and a full-loaf. A bowlful of chutney was added to her tray. Meredith was about to say something but the fellow before her beat her to it.<p>

"Oy, why does she get ham but I get a bloody hoof?" the other recruit groused.

The daggers from Lusine's glare threw Meredith off; she always thought of the maid as mild-mannered. "I could give you the pig's ass instead, if it pleases you," Lusine snapped, waving a ladle for good measure.

The templar-recruit muttered curses beneath his breath as he walked away from the queue.

Meredith smiled slightly and bowed to the maid, pushing the tray back to the latter. "Thank you, Lusine, but this is too hearty for me."

"Oh no no, Messere!" Lusine deflected and nudged the tray back. "You need to eat more! You're getting too skinny round the collar."

The templar-recruit couldn't help but tug on the red collar underneath her armor. Indeed, she had been losing weight lately even as she grew taller; almost eighteen and still growing. Her parents would be proud. Meredith fought a bout of melancholy. No sense in turning down generosity. She bowed slightly and thanked the maid, leaving squealing lunch servers in her wake as she took a seat at an empty table.

No sooner had Meredith lifted a fork, when a mage joined her at the table. Fleetingly, her face crumpled into a frown before she smoothed it into blankness; though she refused to look at the mage's face, from the corner of her eyes she could see the brown robes. A full-pledged mage. At the very least, she could accord harrowed mages polite respect. Or silence. Both worked. Still not looking at her companion, Meredith made a small nod of acknowledgment and was about to pierce a chunk of apple with her fork when—

"'allo, Dollface," the mage piped.

Her fork skidded on the bowl instead, the shrill sound painful to her ears. Pale eyes reduced to slits, Meredith finally looked at the mage. Rumpled dark hair, honey eyes, easy smile, and day-old stubble. She recalled the mage's name as Malcolm Hawke and knew his reputation as a troublemaker. Not with the templars, but rather in his..._relati__ons_. Rumor had it that some recruits (even anointed templars) yielded to him. Meredith straightened her back and looked at the man sharply, but Malcolm's smile only grew wider; she could only describe it as 'disarming'. She had to remember why she was indignant towards the charming bastard.

"What do you want, _mage?" _Meredith asked with venom.

"You say that like it's an insult," Malcolm replied, taking a stab at his own apples. He rested his chin on his palm and cocked his head as he chewed, looking rather amused.

"It is as you are," Meredith said simply, mustering the calmness of someone merely commenting on the weather. Malcolm said nothing, so she began dividing her ham to portions. She could feel the man's eyes on her as she did so. At first Meredith paid it no mind as she was used to being stared at, but whoever coined the phrase 'undressing with one's eyes' must have had Malcolm in mind. Meredith let her silverware clatter on the plate and glared squarely at the mage, subtly employing her mana-draining talents. If Malcolm felt it, he gave no indication; he seemed more affected by the irate blue eyes upon him.

"Such a waste of a beautiful face. You shouldn't scowl so often," Malcolm sighed and dropped his gaze, starting to eat in earnest.

The templar-recruit exhaled in relief and dug into her food as well, halting her hidden assault upon the man. Malcolm visibly relaxed. "None of that, Hawke. I'm not falling for your wiles," she said before delicately chewing on a meaty morsel.

Malcolm smirked. "So you _do_ prefer a different set of robes."

Meredith lifted a brow questioningly.

"A Revered Mother's robes."

The young woman almost choked on her food, save for a timely cup of water. Most of the heads in the dining hall turned to their table. She heaved and gasped, flustered as she glared at a grinning Malcolm, pondering the act of giving him a shiner. No, no, she wasn't going to repeat her mistake with Alrik. Instead, with much dignity she patted the corners of her mouth and with a blank face, regarded her companion. "It seems you're cursed in several ways. Keep your fantasies to yourself," she drawled as calmly as she could. She wasn't about to let a mage lead her by the nose.

Still, Malcolm seemed unaffected. "Well, not that I can blame you. Elthina is such a delightful..." he edged forward and wiggled his eyebrows, "..._companion._"

Meredith could feel her circulation strain as her fingers gripped tightly around the silverware. "You're talking about a Revered Mother, not a harlot, mage." Her blue eyes reduced to tiny slits. "Show some respect."

"I am, I am!" Malcolm exclaimed, waving his hands before him. He even bowed, which seemed properly apologetic to the templar-recruit. "I'm the last who would impugn Mother Elthina. She is such a compassionate soul," the mage offered, even bringing a hand to his heart to complete the gesture. Meredith would have been convinced if not for the smirk that followed. "And her unyielding..._passion,_ could hardly be a fault, could it?"

"I've no idea what you speak of," Meredith huffed as she felt her face warm. She was sure a blush stained her cheeks. Blast her fair complexion.

"Of course not," Malcolm indulged, but again, the smirk on his handsome face said otherwise. He pointed a fork at the blushing recruit. "Did you know their vow of chastity does not really dictate chastity?" Meredith wanted to cover her ears, but recognized it for the surrender it would be. Instead, she endured the mage's continuing assault. "It's more like they simply must love the Maker more than their earthly lovers. Isn't that convenient?" Malcolm winked and popped another chunk of chutney into his mouth. He seemed immensely pleased with himself.

The templar-recruit tried to think of an explosive retort but was stumped. Of course, Meredith wasn't stupid; she knew _exactly_ what the mage was implying. She'd just rather not know. And what of it? It wasn't as if she was a concerned party. Elthina was pleasant enough to look at, sure. More than pleasant, actually, but she wasn't about to admit that. And by no number of loopholes would she allow herself to bed a woman, and a Revered Mother, for that matter. Not that she ever...

Meredith blushed harder and glared at the cocky mage. After a deep breath, she gathered her lunch and stood up, looking down upon the man. In a tone colder than ice, she said, "It was nice speaking with you, Malcolm Hawke. I hope you enjoy your lunch. _Alone._" The mage looked decently gracious and bowed.

Without another word Meredith moved to another table, with Thrask and Emeric, her most tolerable fellows. Both men asked an unvoiced question with their eyes. Meredith shrugged and replied, "Gossip." Thrask smiled with a shake of his head while Emeric's lifted brow indicated he was unconvinced. Regardless, the trio continued to pass their lunch in idle conversation. Her mind, however, was hardly into it.

* * *

><p>Another rest day, another morning for Meredith to train alone. Alone being relative to the lack of other recruits; as it had become customary, Elthina was there, towel and bottle in hand as she read a book and wrote. Meredith had asked about it and found out that the Revered Mother was actually writing down her sermon. Quaint, to say the least; Mother Pieta usually rambled and veered away from the Chant such that her services usually stretched to two, even three hours. Elthina teetered between half an hour to an hour and was quite popular for her insightful and concise sermons. Quite impressive in Meredith's reckoning; she had always thought of the Revered Mother as a slacker. One of the many surprises that Elthina had sprung on her since her return.<p>

The templar-recruit took a breather and sat by the priest, who promptly offered a towel. Meredith had gotten so used to it that she took it without a word or bow. She would be inclined to be gracious with a smile instead if she wasn't so nervous around the priest. She patted her toil away and tried to ignore Elthina's smile. It was easier that way.

"Is that for tomorrow's chant?" Meredith asked, growing uneasy with the priest's silent regard.

"This is for next week, actually. Canticle of Threnodies, on the earliest magisters," Elthina replied as she tidied Meredith's hair, tucking a bundle of blond hair behind her ear. The fingertips felt scalding upon her skin and it took every ounce of control for Meredith not to wince. The younger woman could only say a flat "oh" in response. Companionable silence prevailed between them.

Meredith was about to stand up but Elthina spoke first, giving the former pause. "Say, don't you have tomorrow off?" the priest asked.

The templar-recruit could tell by the glimmer in Elthina's eyes that she had a plan in mind. She shook her head. "Tomorrow's the start of the week. We never have that off."

Elthina seemed astonished for a moment, then laughed. She waved a hand at Meredith, making the younger woman feel slighted. "Silly Merry! Don't tell me you forgot?"

That only made the young recruit feel even more slighted. She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you done?" she spat.

Elthina had to bite her lip to stop herself, then coughed gently into her fist, presumably to regain her composure. She set her book aside and stood. Meredith tilted her head slightly to meet the priest's eyes. The recruit was too riled to be nervous, even when Elthina began to tap on her chin. "Why, my dear Merry. It's your birthday tomorrow!"

Meredith scrunched her brows together, sorting out the dates in her head. Her mouth hung agape as she realized yes, indeed, tomorrow marked the eighteenth year of her life. And she had forgotten. She gathered enough grace to gather her bearings and look proud. "Of course I knew that," Meredith said, smiling what she deemed to be a conniving smile to Elthina. "I was just testing you."

"Of course you were," Elthina said, cocking her head slightly and looking utterly convinced. For some reason, however, Meredith thought otherwise. She left it at that and waited for Elthina to speak further. The priest obliged with a smile. "I'm out on my rounds tomorrow and I was hoping you'd join me."

It was Meredith's turn to cock her head. "Your _rounds_?" she asked. Priests did that, she knew, but never bothered to learn what that entailed. So she asked.

"Oh, you know. Visit the flock, hear confession. For those who couldn't be bothered to go to the chantry," Elthina said matter-of-factly and looked up, past Meredith. The priest seemed wistful. Or scheming. Meredith never could tell with Elthina. "I have an arrangement with a certain clergyman in Hightown, you see," the priest added and by the look on her face it was quite clear she had nothing to add.

"Fair enough," Meredith said with a shrug. She regarded Elthina pointedly. "Should I be in my templar issue?"

"Andraste, no!" Elthina said quickly, again waving her hand before her with stifled laughter. The sharp glower from Meredith immediately stilled her. "Wear what you would for service. I have something in line for your birthday," Elthina related as she settled into her cursory smile with her hands folded before her. "After my rounds, of course."

Meredith looked at Elthina's face for a long while, looking for anything that would give away whatever nefarious or silly plan she had in mind. Only that same mysterious and sweet smile greeted her.

_Sweet._

The young woman groaned as she caught herself, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ease a sudden headache.

"Are you alright?" Elthina asked, concerned.

"I am," Meredith sighed in reply, looking at her boots to reign herself. Trusting herself not grin and blush like a half-wit, the recruit met Elthina's eyes. Still, her face surrendered a faint smile as she said, "I'll be ready by morning."

Oddly, Elthina gaped and stared at Meredith. The younger woman couldn't help but smile wider; it was refreshing to know she could also throw the priest off her stance.

"Tomorrow, then, ninth hour," the priest finally forced herself to speak. Another nod and Meredith took her leave. She was careful to ignore Elthina's abrupt lapse of grace.

At least, for now.

* * *

><p>Meredith regarded herself in the mirror, careful to keep her eyes on her clothes and far away from her face. She had a severe lack of clothing that wasn't templar standard and the lack of notice allowed her little time to prepare. It was by divine grace that she could still fit into her current ensemble; a light cotton dress which was, surprise surprise, in templar colors of red and blue. She purchased it for herself two years ago for her coming-of-age ceremony. What used to reach past her feet only hung down to her ankles. The sleeves were likewise too short but astonishingly, a tad loose around the waist. Loosed ribbons by the chest and bum made her growth spurt tolerable. Meredith decided to fold the sleeves past her elbows and once again looked at herself before the mirror. The formal gown had transformed to a summer dress. She frowned; fine and well, it <em>still <em>was summer anyway, however late it was. The shoes were easier; Meredith kept her footwear updated because boots weren't acceptable apparel for chantry service.

A low whistle came from behind her and she spun around, finding pairs of eyes peering through the door. She scowled and turned red, unsure if it was from indignation or embarrassment. It was easy to act the indignant, so she went for that.

She threw the door open and found several recruits (and templars, as well) huddled around her doorway. Meredith placed her hands by the sides of her hips and glared at the small crowd, only then noticing some were holding wrapped parcels of some sort. She squeezed the bridge of her nose and groaned; she never accepted gifts for fear of charges of impropriety and/or fraternization but her fellows seemed to refuse to learn. As Meredith pondered on that, a brave soul stepped forward with a gift in hand and exclaimed, "Happy Birthday, messere! Please accept a token of my undying admiration!"

A series of claps and gasps filled the small hallway. Meredith groaned again, then glowered at the younger recruit. "Do you know if I accept this we will both be reprimanded, Ser?" she managed to ask calmly.

"It does not matter, Messere! You're the reason I joined the chantry!" the junior beamed.

More clapping. Meredith wanted to pull at her hair in frustration.

"Ahem," coughed a familiar voice.

Scores of heads, including Meredith's, turned towards its direction. The celebrant sighed in relief while the others had to straighten up in reverence. For once, Elthina's unannounced presence was a relief for Meredith. The other templars and recruits began to file out, each greeting and passing Elthina as they scurried their way out. The Revered Mother, perpetually gracious, bowed and smiled in response to each templar. Soon, only the celebrant and priest were left in the small quarters.

"What a heartbreaker," Elthina chided as she joined Meredith, who only shrugged. It was no longer surprising that the priest took her time circling the younger woman, steel-colored eyes obviously surveying Meredith's form. Meredith, meanwhile, tried to keep still and contain her self-consciousness, unwilling to give the other woman the pleasure of seeing her flustered. Yes, she knew Elthina _that _well. It was her birthday; she should be the one enjoying herself.

"Quite the debutante, aren't you?" Elthina finally said, stopping before Meredith. She seemed genuinely pleased, even if a bit out of breath.

The recruit could only smirk. "That was two years ago, Revered Mother. You missed it."

"I'm sure men were, no, _are_ lining up for your hand," the priest remarked and took her companion's hand and started to lead themselves out of the hallway. Her smiling face suddenly dropped. "Fancy any?" she asked.

Meredith cringed. "None. I'm not getting married. _Ever_."

To her credit, Elthina seemed genuinely shocked. "Why not?" she queried.

_Magic. _Meredith would rather die than give birth to a mage. She looked away and took her hand back before it tightened into a fist. "Not your concern," she muttered.

Whatever words they had were kept to themselves after that, the pair walking silently through the Gallows. Meredith's mood soured enough that she did not notice the Gallows' inhabitants tripping over themselves as they gawked at her. Elthina, meanwhile, carried herself with such grace that it was as if leading the most ill-tempered yet most attractive templar (in a dress, no less) was a daily occurrence. They remained as so until they boarded the boat that would take them to the city-proper.

Meredith looked to the distance; sea meeting rock, from which rose the walls that tried to reach the sky. Soft blond curls billowed in the breeze. Keeping her eyes away from Elthina, she asked rather absently, "Where is this special congregation of yours?"

"As I've said, Hightown," Elthina answered readily, fighting to keep her hair at bay from the breeze.

Meredith turned to Elthina, puzzled. "The Grand Cathedral's right there, why don't they attend their service?" she asked.

At that, the priest assumed her conniving smile and emulated Meredith, looking instead to the distance. "You'll see," was the woman's curt and mysterious answer. Meredith could only frown and when it became clear that Elthina wouldn't elaborate, she groused and turned her eyes ahead.

Foreboding and excitement; she could have done with more mundane gifts_._ Meredith nodded. She would see soon enough.


	5. Debauchee

A/N: I apologize for the slowness, I am on a drawing binge lately...so if you want spoilers of the visual variety you just need to go to my crappy tumblr~ That thang is _so _nsfw though. Anyway, thanks to t.a.m. For giving my errors a kick in the quad!

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><p>Elthina's special congregation turned out to be located in a rather stylish pub in Hightown. At least Meredith thought it was a pub; having been raised in a cloister, she never imagined a pub should have half-naked men and women serving drinks to its customers. A serving wench from a nearby table even offered drinks from her own navel. Meredith cringed at the sight and stared at her lap instead; what kind of tavern serviced its patrons like that? As if that wasn't enough, she had to constantly glare down any sad tosser that made a pass at her. Elthina left Meredith in her current seat as soon as they arrived, telling her to "behave and not have fun without her" then disappeared to an upstairs room. She had frowned at the reminder; as if she were inclined to have fun in such a seedy place. Meredith was considering leaving without the priest when a woman joined her in the table.<p>

"My my, aren't you a pretty one. New around here?" the woman chimed as she idly played with the wine glass in her hand. Eyes as bright as Meredith's own regarded the templar-recruit with unabashed interest.

Meredith didn't reply, instead appraising the woman. Dressed in fine raiment, the woman was around her age, if a bit older; long dark hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and a pretty face. Well, pretty was an understatement; guarded as she was Meredith knew what beautiful was when she saw it. She considered if speaking with the woman could in any way be inappropriate. Deciding it wasn't, Meredith finally answered with a curt "Yes."

The woman smiled at the response then discreetly nodded to a server. Soon, an elf dressed in nothing but her corset and smalls brought Meredith some wine. Meredith looked at the glass, puzzled, then to her companion. The woman sipped her own wine as a reply. Meredith frowned and shook her head. "I do not drink," she declared.

The woman seemed genuinely surprised for a moment, then laughed softly. Meredith narrowed her eyes; she couldn't tell if the woman was being coquettish or offensive. The woman set her glass aside and leaned forward on the table, too close for Meredith's comfort. "Pity. Let's do this without alcohol then," the woman said then held out a hand. "Leandra Amell. And you are?"

Meredith became wide-eyed and stared at the offered hand, then at Leandra herself. A noble. More than that, an Amell. The family practically owned Kirkwall. She had heard rumors about a young Amell debauchee and for some reason, she had an inkling the stories were about this woman. Feeling suddenly conscious, Meredith finally took the offered hand and as customary with nobles, kissed the signet ring, saying, "Meredith Stannard." Leandra's hand smelled of lilies. Meredith blushed, not sure if it was from being unused to greeting nobles or her mind taking notice of the scent.

"Stannard?" Leandra repeated as she withdrew her hand, looking thoughtful for a moment before her brows arched. Meredith dreaded what Leandra might say next. Her family wasn't nobility and there was only one reason an Amell would ever recognize a Stannard. Thankfully, Leandra was properly versed in etiquette. "Then I suppose you don't work here," she said in a tone halfway between an observation and a question.

"No, Messere. I'm a recruit with the Templar Order."

"A templar! That explains things," Leandra exclaimed. She eyed Meredith with renewed interest, giving her a look that was outright sultry. Meredith felt lightheaded. "Though I can't imagine why someone as fetching as yourself must come here for relief," Leandra whispered, the slight rasp of her voice raising gooseflesh on Meredith's skin.

"I'm just here with a..." Meredith paused, thinking if she should say she came with a Revered Mother in a tavern full of scantily clad servers and fornicators.

...

_Probably not._

"...a friend," Meredith decided.

"Oh, where is he?"

"She. And she's upstairs," Meredith replied then inhaled loudly. Worldly she may be not but she wasn't stupid. She'd rather have the woman say her piece and reject it forthright. Flames take her looks and Elthina too for leaving her in a den of wolves. "Pardon me for saying, Messere—"

"Leandra is fine," the noblewoman interrupted then took another sip of wine.

Meredith bit the inside of her cheek but managed to keep her face impassive. "—alright, _Leandra. _What do you wish of me?"

Leandra chuckled softly, again playing with the glass in her hand. The swirling wine was almost hypnotic. "My, what don't I wish of you?" she said as she set her glass aside. Leandra's clear eyes became predatory as they settled on Meredith. "I know a virgin when I see one."

Meredith's jaw nearly hit the floor. So much for her opinion on Leandra's etiquette. She quickly recovered her jaw and met Leandra's gaze. "No," Meredith said and upon seeing the amusement on the noble's face she elaborated, "and by no I mean no to whatever proposition you have in mind."

If Leandra was taken aback, it didn't show. Instead, she stood and walked to Meredith, her elegant fingers tracing the edges of Meredith's chair. The younger woman could feel the heat from the noble. "Won't you reconsider?" Leandra implored, "I _am_ known for my clever tongue."

"I'm sure you are but I am not one for conversation," Meredith deadpanned.

Leandra sighed from behind Meredith, for which the latter was thankful. "Very well. But I'll just be with Lusine over there in case—"

"Lusine?" Meredith echoed then followed where Leandra was pointing. And there she was, the maid Lusine, in a skimp of an outfit that Meredith would not deem large enough to sneeze on. Meredith hardly recognized the woman from all the embellishments on her face and hair. She turned back to Leandra, utterly scandalized. "By the Maker, what is this place?" she asked the noble.

Leandra lifted a brow, looking at Meredith as if she confessed to murder. When Meredith's outrage did not drop, Leandra's mouth quivered into a smile. "Oh, you are _simply _delightful, Meredith. You don't know?" Leandra asked then leaned right next to Meredith's ear, covering the corner of her mouth as she whispered, "You're in the Blooming Rose."

"WHAT_?" _Meredith cried as she rose from her seat; she knew the name and its associated infamy. Everyone in the pub paused and gave her a collectively puzzled look. Meredith, however, was unmindful and voiced her suspicions, "that _brothel?"_

"_The _brothel," Leandra supplied as if correcting her. A smile formed on the noble's lips, right before stealing a kiss from the distracted woman. It was sweet and over before Meredith could even register what was happening. With a dash of tongue and a trailing finger on Meredith's jaw, Leandra withdrew with a giggle. "Don't be a stranger," she said, leaving with a wink.

Meredith stared after the retreating Leandra, jaw slack and shuddering with indignation. She had just been kissed by woman she hadn't even known for a day. Never mind it was exhilarating; she was not that kind of girl. As she shuddered with recollection, Meredith was struck with a thought.

That was her first kiss.

Meredith flushed with the epiphany; that harlot of a noble stole her first kiss! Amell or not, she had a good mind to throttle her. And Meredith deigned to do just that, marching past Lusine and ignoring her greeting (and flash of breasts) but the noble had already disappeared through a back door. Meredith followed and found herself in a lonely alley with Leandra nowhere in sight. She was about to rush for the nearest corner when—

"One kiss and you're chasing me? I may have outdone myself this time."

Meredith spun around and saw Leandra standing by the door. She stared at the noble for a moment, then looked side-to-side; one moment Leandra wasn't there and the next she was right behind her. Meredith's pale eyes shot daggers at the noble. "Are you a mage?" Meredith asked, demanding.

Leandra was briefly struck speechless then burst laughing. She boldly stepped towards Meredith, unheeding of the the latter's defensive stance."No, but I've been told I have a...shall we say, 'magic touch'," she offered in jest.

Meredith regarded the noble warily, obviously unconvinced. Snatching Leandra's hand, Meredith snapped, "You wouldn't mind me putting that to test, would you?"

Leandra only shrugged. "By all means," she said, looking bored as Meredith trained her senses upon her. Meredith looked at the woman's hand as if it was her only anchor to the world; her training had taught her that however skilled a mage may be in concealing her curse, remnants of mana were bound to remain in her hand. Upon cursory examination, Meredith felt nothing, but she couldn't be too careful when dealing with a possible apostate...

The templar-recruit was so absorbed with her hunt that she didn't notice Leandra's free hand playing with the ends of her golden curls. Nor did she notice being gently backed against a wall by Leandra's slender frame. The noble was already halfway through the laces on Meredith's chest when the latter caught on.

"Alright, you're not a—what are you doing?" Meredith cried, slapping Leandra's hand away.

Leandra rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her waist, saying, "Oh please, serah, you chased me all the way back here. What else would you want to do, take back your kiss?"

"Yes—I mean, _no! _What is wrong with you!_" _Meredith shrilled as she fumbled with her loosed threads. She would have slapped the woman if she wasn't sure she would break her into two.

Leandra crossed her arms over her chest, looking immensely irritated as her brows furrowed. Meredith thought that the woman was about to scream "bloody murder!" to spite her. To her surprise, however, Leandra became a veneer of calm, casually tossing her hair over her shoulder. "As you please," she said as she turned away from Meredith, "not that I'd expect much from such a bad kisser."

The noble's words stabbed through Meredith, kindling sudden annoyance. Her hands balled into fists as she huffed, "Well, pardon me for not being a skillful slattern such as yourself!"

Leandra waved a dismissive hand at the younger woman. "Better a slattern than a frigid doll," she sneered as she looked at her nails, then directed pitying eyes at Meredith. "Oh, and for your indulgence, serah, a drooling manchild is a better kisser than you."

Now, despite her poor temper, Meredith considered herself better than most in taking taunts; she had to, given that she was raised among rowdy boys who thought little of her beyond her looks. That grace, however, eluded her at the moment; Leandra's haughtyness, insults, and use of the "d" word snapped her already fragile temper like a summer-dried twig. And if there was anything Meredith couldn't resist, it was proving haughty bastards (or tarts, for that matter) wrong. Thus, as her judgment became clouded and her vision reddened, Meredith seized the noble's wrist and pinned her against a wall. Leandra winced at the impact but, oddly, seemed unconcerned as she regarded the outraged Meredith. With a smile, Leandra asked, "What is it, serah? Eager to prove me wrong?"

Meredith's reply came in a bruising kiss.

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><p>Administering confession and spiritual advice to the Rose's workers, along with the bad girlboy special, took longer than Elthina thought, but never had she been thankful for it. After all, she was about to reveal to Meredith that she had been duped into entering a brothel. Elthina's steel-gray eyes carefully scanned the brothel's tavern for any sign of Meredith; an easy task, she thought, considering how striking her companion was. At least she thought so...Elthina was already downstairs and still found no sign of Meredith. If it were anyone else she would have been concerned, considering where they were but this was snippy virgin Merry, after all. Elthina bit her bottom lip as she withheld a giggle; she could already imagine the horror on Meredith's face upon the revelation. A familiar face, however, interrupted her imaginings.

"Mother Elthina!" Lusine cried rather urgently as she rushed to the priest.

Elthina lifted a brow; the girl's outfit barely covered her naughty bits then realized the sight was enough to ruin the surprise. _Lovely__, why did Lusine have to work today, _the priest thought_. _Nonetheless, Elthina smiled kindly at Lusine, ready to ask for Meredith but the woman removed the need.

"Ser Meredith's out back," Lusine heaved, breathless and panicked, "With _Lady Amell_!"

Elthina's smile dropped at the announcement; a certain Amell posed a great peril to pretty lassies. "Which Amell?" she asked, barely breathing. _Please not Leandra, please not—_

"Leandra Amell!" Lusine answered as she pointed to a backdoor.

Elthina held the sides of her robes and rushed to the scene.


End file.
